Feiyun watched the scene in the mirror. Though Zhan Yue had lost, Ye Xiaomu was still fighting.

Her cultivation was above both Meng Taiyue and Zhan Yue, reaching the peak ninth-level and nearly touching the gate of Nirvana.

“Meng Xinghu, you have gone too far!” She got up from the ground with nothing but determination in her eyes. Her battle robe was tattered, revealing her snow-white skin stained with blood.

Her hair fluttered to the wind; her red eyes looked just like amber. She formed seventy sword mudras in no time at all and created a divine sword. It flew straight for Meng Xinghu’s head.

“Haha, your cultivation isn’t bad but the difference between our talent is too great. I am a historical genius and can exceed three levels.” Xinghu was at the early...